Back in 1979, when Apocalypse Now first came out, I saw it and loved it. Francis Ford Coppola made a masterpiece, simple as that. Saw it once straight and once, right in the front row, stoned out of our gourds. The beads of sweat standing out on Martin Sheen’s forehead in the cheap Hanoi hotel room. Robert Duvall walking on the beach without blinking while bullets and mortars whiz past. Laurence Fishburne, incredibly young, dancing on the patrol boat. Cynthia Wood, Colleen Camp, and Linda Carpenter as Playmates engulfed by the horny crowd.
The new version, retitled Apocalypse Now Redux, with an extra 50 minutes edited in started playing on Showtime so we watched it last night. Or tried to but fell asleep. The extra scenes were alright in themselves but they did nothing for the movie. Just stretched out Sheen’s river trip and delayed the riveting encounter with Brando. Why do directors always think longer is better?
BillSaysThis 